


Five Times Megamind Slept with Metro Man

by tripperfunster



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2748212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tripperfunster/pseuds/tripperfunster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's really five +1, but there's no sleeping in the last one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Megamind Slept with Metro Man

The first time it happened, Wayne muted the strings of his guitar with one broad hand and cocked his head, ears straining. It wasn’t that his hearing had diminished from lack of use these past few months, but a knock on his door was so unexpected and startling that he almost couldn’t (wouldn’t?) believe it was true.

The knock came again, somewhat louder and more insistent and Wayne lay his instrument aside, weighing the options of answering verses not. His fortress of solitude had been exactly that. Solitary. He had yet to be discovered by Jehovah’s Witnesses and Fuller Brush salesmen and he very much preferred it that way. And yet, even a man who valued privacy above all else required some sort of social interaction, didn’t he?

He crossed the room and turned the doorknob before allowing himself the time to second guess his decision. The door swung open to reveal someone small, and blue and decidedly haggard looking.

“Hey,” Wayne said, his surprise most likely showing in his voice, “What’s up?”

Megamind grinned apologetically.

“I … I’m sorry. I should have telephoned you first, but I uh … I didn’t have your number, and I … I didn’t know how else to get a hold of you.” Those big, expressive eyes darted around nervously. “I just … I needed--”

“Are you okay? Is ROXANNE all right?”

Megamind waved his hands dismissively. “Yes, of course. Its nothing like that. I just needed … your … advice.” At the last words his voice fell to a mumble, and it was only Wayne’s keen hearing which enabled him to understand.

“Advice? Really? From me?”

Megamind sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Look. You don’t have to make this any more difficult that it already is. I’m sure you have all sorts of important ‘rich people’ things to do, so if you’re not willing to help me, then just say it outright, and I won’t darken your doorstep again.”

Wayne chuckled and pushed the door open, making a sweeping gesture of welcome. “As it turns out, my ’important rich person’ schedule is wide open.”

Megamind tentatively stepped in to the large room, his hands fisted in his cape. At Wayne’s friendly nod he sat in a white, plush chair and Wayne took the one beside it.

“So, what’s up, little buddy?”

“I’m not your buddy,” he replied, fingers still twisting nervously in his cape, “and I’m not sure why you insist on calling me that. We haven’t spoken for … months, and I doubt we’d have ever spoken again if I hadn’t come over.”

“It’s possible,” he replied, “but we used to talk all the time. Weekly even.”

“Banter.” Megamind corrected. “We used to banter. It’s not the same.”

“So we didn’t get together and drink tea and talk about our feelings. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. We were still conversing. And admit it. It was kind of fun.”

Megamind grinned despite himself. ‘It was,” he conceded. “I’ve got to tell you, although there’s no lack of bad guys wreaking havoc in Metrocity these days, none of them have an iota of style. Whatever happened to putting a little effort into your work?”

“I don’t doubt it,” chuckled Wayne. “Style was something you had in spades.”

Megamind’s cheeks flushed and he stifled a yawn. “I know, but that’s not what I’m here about.” He paused for a moment, choosing his words, then took a deep breath and pressed on. “How did you stand it?” he asked, forehead creasing. At Wayne’s look of non-comprehension he continued. “The people. The crowds. The reporters? I had no idea there were so many reporters in this city!”

“Yes, well, you seemed to mainly just focus on one.”

“They all want me. Well, not ME, but a piece of me. ’Sign this!’ ’Smile here!’ ’Be the face of our new advertising campaign.’ And the touching! And grabbing! And pulling! And the women! Oh God! The women! I honestly can’t get a moment’s peace.”

“Yeah … the women,” said Wayne dreamily. "That’s the one thing I do miss.”

“You’re kidding, right? They don’t want to get to know me, they just want one thing.”

“Yup, that’s what they want, alright.”

Megamind’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you … gave it to them!”

“Well, not all of them, of course.” At Megamind’s gasp of horror, he laughed. “Dude, I’m not a machine. I’m a man with needs, just like you.”

“Well, obviously not just like me, because I wouldn’t even … consider doing … that. With them.”

“Buddy,” Wayne soothed, “you’re reading me all wrong here. It was just occasionally. Believe me, there were lots and lots of dry spells too.”

“So,” asked the new hero, scrubbing his hands over his face, “how did you handle it when you weren’t … giving in? How do you say no? How can you -- can I -- find some peace and quiet in my life, when all those mindless drones want nothing more than to rip me to shreds and feed on me?”

“Boundaries,” he answered simply. “You need to set firm boundaries and demand that they respect them,” he said, getting to his feet, “Do you want some coffee?”

Megamind sighed and leaned back in the chair. “That sounds divine. Thank you, yes.”

In the kitchen Wayne scooped the ground beans and smiled to himself as he set the water to boil. Megamind. In his living room. And not only that, but they were having an actual grown-up conversation. The first one that Wayne had had in months with anyone, let alone his former nemesis. He found the sugar bowl and filled the pitcher with cream, then rummaged under the counter for a tray. He even grabbed some cookies and put them on a plate. If he remembered correctly, Megamind had a fondness for sweets.

He returned to the living room, steaming mugs and goodies in hand, but he had obviously taken too long, for Megamind was asleep. The little villain turned hero was slumped against the soft arm of the chair. One leather clad hand tucked under his large, blue head, the other curled in his lap like a miniature cat.

It felt odd to stare, but everything about the entire evening had been odd. From the knock on the door, to the somewhat stilted, yet friendly conversation, it had been a day unlike any other. And now to have this enigmatic little man who was normally so overbearing, full of false bravado and machismo, allow himself to be so vulnerable, Wayne couldn’t help but take it all in.

He had aged. Probably more in the past six months of being a hero than he had in the last few years of his villainy. Bearing the weight of the city, he mused, and all of the responsibilities that accompanied it could wear a man down. He touched this silvering at his own temples as he examined Megamind’s face. It had yet to be lined (unlike Wayne’s own ever deepening crow’s feet) but it seemed somehow sharper. More angular. And the dark circles beneath his eyes told much more than any hand wringing or nervous tics ever could.

He would sink or he would swim. Most likely the latter, Wayne mused as he sat and poured cream into his cup. The man was many things, but a quitter he was not.

Megamind hadn’t so much as shifted by the time Wayne finished his coffee, so he took the throw from the back of the sofa and ever so carefully covered the sleeping form. He put both mugs in the sink and begrudgingly headed off to bed.

In the morning the blanket was folded over the couch and Megamind was gone.

 

*****************

 

The next time Megamind showed up he was carrying a giant ham.

“What about gifts?” he asked, dumping the slab of meat into Wayne’s arms and breezing past him to the living room.

“I love gifts,” Wayne said dryly, “especially when they’re pork.” He shut the door with one foot and hefted the ham to his other hand. “This is huge!”

“No, I mean people gifts. What am I supposed to do about people wanting to give me gifts all of the time?”

“Take them,” he said with a shrug. “You want a sandwich?”

“No. And I can’t take them. It feels weird. Today a little old lady tried to give me twenty dollars for getting her cat out of a tree.”

“Did you take it?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Are you sure you don’t want a sandwich? This smells fantastic.”

“Fine. Just half. Wait- are you telling me you took money from people?”

“Yes. No. Not really. Was it Eliza?”

“Was who Eliza?” Megamind asked, following Wayne into the kitchen.

“The woman with the cat and the twenty bucks.” He took a long serrated knife and began to carve the ham into thin slices. “Long white hair all wrapped up into a knot on her head?”

“Yes! All twisted up there and clipped with an odd …”

“Butterfly barrette,” Wayne supplied.

“Yes! Yes, that’s her.”

Wayne stopped cutting and smiled. “She was great. So old and sweet, yet bossy as all get out.”

“Tell me about it,” huffed Megamind. “Not only was I supposed to rescue her stupid cat, but I had to be careful about damaging her precious tree while I did it.”

“Yup, that’s Eliza all right.”

“And it’s not just money, it’s trinkets and baubles and furniture and things. And most of them themed like me! What the heck do I want with a bunch of toys and pictures and actions figures of myself?”

“Get the mustard, would you?”

Megamind opened the fridge and rummaged around. “Honey or Dijon?”

“Which one do you like?”

Megamind thumped the honey-mustard on the counter and threw up his hands. “So what am I supposed to do?”

Wayne grinned and shrugged. “Get me some lettuce?”

“No, really,” he replied, searching in the crisper, “it’s getting worse every day and I don’t know what’s the right thing to do.”

“The ‘right thing to do,’” said Wayne, rinsing the newly found lettuce under the tap, “is to say ‘Thank you very much,’ and take them.”

“But you don’t understand, I don’t want them.”

“No, you're the one who doesn’t understand. They want to give them to you. It makes them feel good, and as a hero, that’s your job. Putting the needs of others above your own.”

“But … how does taking stuff from people make them feel good?”

“Because,” said Wayne, shaking the water from the lettuce, “it’s better to give than to receive.”

“Since when?” asked Megamind, and by the look on his face Wayne could tell he was serious.

“Since you became a grown up? I mean sure, when you’re a kid, and you come downstairs Christmas morning, and there’s all those gifts under the tree, of course you’re excited, and it’s all about what Santa brought you, but when you’re older, and you’ve already got a bunch of stuff, it’s more about finding that perfect gift for someone else. Man, my mom was hard to buy for, and I would spend weeks finding her the perfect present. It was so nice to see her face light up like that. Know what I mean?”

Wayne assembled the sandwiches and handed one over. “Little buddy? You okay?”

Pulled from this thoughts, Megamind looked up and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. I um … I never had a tree. Or Chrissmace.”

“Oh,” said Wayne, leading the way back to the living room. “You Jewish?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Wayne chuckled. “I’m pretty sure you’d know.” This time he sat on the couch and Megamind joined him, perched on the far end. “Chanukah? Kwanza?”

He shook his head and bit into his sandwich. “Gesundheit. Hey, this is really good.”

“You’re changing the subject,” teased Wayne.

“Yes. You’re clever enough to realize that, but not clever enough to take the hint?”

Wayne bit into his own sandwich and shrugged. “Fine,” he said between chews, “consider your hint taken.”

They ate in silence for a while, then the subject of other Citizens in Peril came up and they spoke for hours, Wayne asking about people, places and politicians he’d not seen for the past half year and Megamind chatting animatedly about foiled bank robberies and growing organized crime in the city.

Eventually Wayne stretched and yawned.

“Oh my. It’s late, and I’ve kept you.” said Megamind primly.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Wayne. “This has been … fun.” He turned to Megamind and grinned sheepishly. “It’s kind of nice to have company. I guess I didn’t realize how house-bound I’d become.”

“Yes, well I app-- Oh!” said the new hero, motioning to his own mouth, “You’ve got a little … mustard right … no, um, higher. Yes, that’s it, you’ve got it.”

Wayne scrubbed at his face with the back of one hand. “Damn beard, it’s a food magnet.”

“Then why have it? It’s kind of a shame, really.”

“How so?” he asked and was immediately surprised at the bright magenta flush that appeared on Megamind’s cheeks.

“Well,” he coughed. stalling for time, “it’s no secret that you’re …” he waved his hands in an indistinct flourish, “a handsome … individual. It just seems a shame to go and cover it up with that big old … scruff.”

“You think I’m handsome?” Wayne asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

“No!” shrieked Megamind, turning impossibly pinker, “I do not think that, it just happens to be a widely known fact. There are certain North American standards of beauty that some people fall in to and others … do not.”

“So, just so we’re clear, what you’re saying is; You think I’m handsome.”

“You’re not listening. Some people might find your rugged features to be attractive, but not everybody enjoys men who are buff and practically dripping with testosterone.”

“I’m just teasing you.”

“I’m aware of that, but for the record, if I had your face, I wouldn’t cover it up.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Say, you wanna catch the news before you go? See what the city’s been up to while we hung out?”

Megamind checked his watch and nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

By the first commercial break they were both asleep.

Wayne woke up an hour later, with the television just static and Megamind leaning against him. He considered shifting to reach the remote but decided against it.

When he awoke a few hours later, the television was off and Megamind was gone. This time the blanket had been laid across his broad chest.

 

************

 

Wayne shifted the grocery bags to one arm as he struggled to free his keys from his front pocket. Once liberated, he thumbed through them to find the right one, except … his door was already unlocked. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He took a deep breath and quietly lowered the bags to the floor.

He had pissed off more than his share of criminals during his reign as Metro Man and he had always figured it was just a matter of time until one of them decided to seek revenge.

He eased the door open a crack, and when nothing seemed immediately amiss, he pressed it open further. The television was flickering in the dark room, but aside from that everything seemed normal. Wayne reached around behind the door and picked up a commemorative baseball bat. He slid one large hand around the grip and slowly entered the living room, bat raised and ready to bash the first lowlife to leap out of the shadows.

The television was playing a documentary on African wild cats, and the sounds of the lions snarling and growling did nothing to settle his nerves. He searched the room in the flickering light but could see nothing out of place, until he looked at the sofa and found Megamind splayed out there.

He was on his stomach this time, one arm dangling off the edge. His giant head was smushed into the seat cushion, face turned just enough to breathe, and his legs -- Wayne stopped for a moment and sucked in his breath. Megamind’s boots and gloves were off. Aside from their short time together in elementary school (and one brief visit at the prison) Wayne hadn’t seen his nemesis without his trademark bicep length gloves. And he had certainly never seen the villain’s feet.

The fact that he had feet wasn’t a surprise, of course, but seeing them here, uncovered, crossed at the ankles with blue toes dug into the material between the cushions and the armrest was … odd, yet comforting. Oddly comforting.

“Little blue feet.” he whispered to nobody in particular.

Megamind shifted, then stretched, his shoulders hunching, his free arm stiffening and skimming the ground. He rolled onto his back and cracked one eye open at Wayne. “Hey,” he said, then; “HEY!”

In a startling show of speed and athleticism, the little hero sprung up and skittered onto the back of the couch, arms shielding his large head. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Oh!” said Wayne, lowering the bat and letting it fall to the floor. “Sorry, I forgot I was holding that.”

Megamind climbed down from the back of the couch, one hand clutching his chest. “Geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack. What’s with the head-basher anyway?”

“To club the bad guys with? I thought someone had broken into my place. I was just protecting myself. Say, how’d you get in, anyway?”

Megamind raised an eyebrow. “Please, former Master of All Villainy here. A simple half Mortise lock is no match for me. It barely slowed me down. And I repeat; “What up with the bat?”

Wayne shrugged. “I thought there was an intruder. What don’t you get?”

“Hello? Have we met? Super strength? Laser vision? Super speed? And I dunno, a million other things probably too. Bionic legs? Radioactive blood? Wonder-Twin powers?” Megamind yawned and rubbed his face. “You don’t need a bat to subdue the bad guys, you’re freakin’ Metro Man.”

“Not anymore,” he said. “I’m Music Man now. And even that …” he trailed off. “Well, it’s not going like I’d hoped. I guess I’m just plain Wayne now.”

“Well, Just Plain Wayne,” said Megamind, curling into a ball, “you shouldn’t ignore the things that are part of who you are. Look at me. Being a hero didn’t stop me from doing a little B&E tonight.”

“Yeah, well, we all do what we gotta do.”

Megamind rubbed his fists into his eye sockets. “Where were you?”

“Groceries. I like to go late at night. Less chance of getting recognized. And what’s with you? It’s barely 11pm, why are you so zonked? I thought evil never sleeps.”

“Abduction. Two very long nights of searching the city for a missing child.”

“Oh, tough one. Did you find them?”

“Yeah. It ended up being a stupid miscommunication between the woman and her ex-husband. Custody battles, ugh!” Megamind stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Thanks to their stupidity, I haven’t slept for--” he checked his watch and groaned--”thirty-three hours.”

He closed his eyes, then promptly popped them open. “Hey! You got rid of your thing! You shaved!”

Wayne pawed at his newly smooth chin and grinned. “Yeah, it was time.”

“S’nice,” said Megamind, eyes sliding closed.

“Thanks. I’m gonna grab the groceries. You hungry?”

There was no answer. Wayne set to the task of bringing in the food and fixing himself a snack. At least Megamind had been considerate enough to leave him some room. He located the remote control and settled himself onto the far end of the sofa, switching the channel to something more entertaining and less growly than nature shows.

Half-way through the late, late news, Megamind stirred and stretched out his legs, then deposited his feet into Wayne’s lap. Wayne looked at the hero, but he was still dead to the world. The feet twitched and toes curled and Megamind let out a heavy sigh. Wayne tentatively wrapped one large hand around the little foot and gave a light squeeze. God, they were soft! And so well groomed! They were immaculately clean, and each toe nail was clipped short and straight across. No chips or cracks or unsightly hangnails.

Wayne had always prized himself on his own appearance, but he’d never given himself such a thorough pedicure. He gently lifted up the blue foot and took a cautious sniff. Leather. And perhaps some sort of moisturizer? He inhaled more deeply, searching his mind for that familiar smell. Some sort of cologne? Perhaps a product made for keeping those boots supple?

“Metro Mahn!“ said Megamind in a husky whisper.

Wayne froze. He was busted.

Megamind raised one hand and pointed across the room. “You forget, that the pendulum of evil swings both ways.” The hand flopped down on his chest and his head tilted back, mouth parted.

Was -- was he still asleep? Wayne gingerly placed the foot back in his lap and folded his hands. “Buddy?” he whispered, “you up?”

Megamind said nothing, but smacked his lips and grinned. Wayne grinned too. This could be fun!

Megamind’s hands fluttered and twitched, then balled into fists. “Yes,” he hissed, breathy and low, “but the clock of evil keeps no time.”

Wayne clapped a hand over his mouth. This was gold. The feet in his lap jerked and trembled, and Wayne wondered if he was running in his dream. Or perhaps even dancing? Then, hands on hips, Megamind laughed heartily and proclaimed; “But you forget, I possess the Sassy Pancakes!”

At this, Wayne couldn’t help but laugh out loud, waking the sleeping hero.

“What? What is it?” he cried, large eyes darting around the dark room.

“Nothing,” Wayne soothed, “it's okay. You were just having a dream.”

“Oh my!” Megamind said, horror dawning on his face. “I was talking, wasn’t I?” His eyes travelled down to his feet in Wayne’s lap and he quickly jerked them away, curling himself into a ball. “And kicking you, no doubt. My apologies.”

“Nah, you didn’t kick me, but you were talking.”

“How embarrassing,” he said, brow furrowing. “I hope I didn’t say anything too … revealing? Or inappropriate?”

“What were you dreaming about? You said something about the ‘pendulum of evil’?”

“Oh yes!” said Megamind, eyes lighting up in recognition, “There was a ray. A nudity beam. Oh my!” his cheeks flushed and he clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Care to tell me about the ‘Sassy Pancakes?’”

Megamind had the decency to look mortified, then burst out laughing. “Oh dear, that is beyond ridiculous! That was my name for the ray. I really don’t know what is wrong with my brain sometimes. I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I tend to talk in my sleep, especially when I’m over tired.”

“Nudity beam, huh?” Wayne winked at him and grinned. “Was I there?”

“No!” Megamind lied, blushing even deeper. “Not at all.”

“Too bad,” he said, “It sounded like fun.”

Megamind slipped on his boots and hopped to his feet. “Well, I’ve imposed on you enough. I should get back to the lair.”

“You could stay,” Wayne offered, “It’s pretty late.”

“Thank you, but no.” He held his wrist up to his face and pressed a button on his watch. “Minion, code: Pick me up at Goody Two-shoes. Sorry!” he stage whispered to Wayne, “Old nickname.”

Wayne shrugged, “Hey, I’ve been called worse.”

“I very much doubt that,” said Megamind, searching around the couch. “Oh, here they are.” He picked up his gloves and gave a salute. “Thank you for your hospitality. I’m sorry I had to break in.”

“Anytime little buddy, anytime.” He raised his own hand in a wave and watched Megamind back out of the door and snick it shut behind him.

 

****************

 

“Hey! You’re just in time. I’ve popped some corn and the movie’s about to start.”

“Popp-ed corn?” Asked Megamind, stepping through the door, “Whatever for?”

“That’s what you eat when you’re watching a movie. Duh!” intoned Wayne, as he plopped on the couch and put his feet on the coffee table. “Or does Evil not watch movies?”

“I am no longer evil,” he answered, sitting on the other end of the sofa, “and I happen to have a fairly extensive collection of DVD’s.”

“All of them legally obtained?” teased Wayne.

Megamind smirked and met his gaze. “I have no idea where Minion gets them and I’m not about to ask.”

“Ah,” said Wayne, tossing the white kernels in the air and catching them in his mouth, “Plausible deniability. Very smart.”

The hero tapped his large head and nodded. “Henchmen are very convenient that way. Do you have any soda?”

“Shit, yeah. Where’s my manners? It’s in the fridge, I’ll get you one.”

“No, no. I’ll get it.” He unclasped his collar and tossed it and the attached cape on the empty chair. “Would you like one?”

“Sure. Actually, grab me a beer. Grab one for yourself, they’re on the door.”

Megamind opened the fridge and searched the contents. “Just a ginger-ale for me, thanks. So what’s the movie?” He pushed a few things around and located his soda, then grabbed a beer as well.

“Shawshank Redemption,” Wayne called from the other room. “Super cool flick. Super cool.”

“Stephen King,” mused Megamind, arriving with the drinks. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a horror movie kind of guy.”

“Have you seen it?” he asked, taking his beer and twisting off the cap, “It’s not horror, it’s … gritty.”

“Not that I recall. What’s it about?”

“It’s about a guy who’s wrongly accused of his wife’s murder, and he goes to jail.”

Megamind raised one brow.

“No! That’s not all,” he continued, “It’s more about what happens to him while he’s there, the friends and enemies that he makes and how he eventually solves the mystery and -- Well, I don’t want to give it all away.” He patted the cushion beside him and Megamind obediently sat.

“So … no monsters? No child-eating clowns living in the sewers?”

Wayne laughed. “No, nothing like that. Just regular old humans. Well, some of them are monsters in their own right, I guess, but nothing supernatural.”

“Okay, I guess,” said Megamind, although he did not seem convinced.

******

Halfway through the film it occurred to Wayne that perhaps it hadn’t been the best movie choice to show to an ex-con. He stole a few sideways glances at his partner during some of the more graphic scenes but Megamind seemed totally engrossed, uneaten popcorn clutched in one hand.

When the characters finally arrived at Zihuatanejo and the credits rolled, Wayne turned down the volume and placed the empty popcorn bowl on the table. “So, what’d you think?”

“It was … gritty, yes. But surprisingly uplifting for such depressing subject matter. And I must say,” he said, turning to Wayne with a grin, “I could have learned a lesson from Andy on breaking out of prison in a quiet, subtle way, instead of with my usual panache. It affords one a bit more lead time!”

Wayne breathed an inner sigh of relief. “So what do you want to watch now? Colbert Report? Leno? News?”

Megamind shrugged and finished the last of his ginger ale. “Honestly, I don’t watch much television at the lair. Whatever you’d like to see is fine with me.”

With an effort to pick something light and mindless Wayne turned the station to the Jay Leno Show. By the end of the monologue the were both sound asleep.

*****  
Someone was in trouble. Someone needed his help.

 

Wayne struggled toward consciousness. He awoke short of breath and his heart pounding in his throat. He scoured the darkened room with it’s familiar archways and wall hangings. Ah, yes. He was at home. And obviously dreaming. Taking some deep, calming breaths, he willed his thrumming heart to slow and sent up a prayer of thanks. He was no longer a hero and didn’t have to worry anymore. The stress, pressure and seething, needy crowds were no longer an issue for him, although his subconscious seemed unwilling to let it go. The nightly hero-stress dreams had slowed to weekly and now just semi-monthly, but they still left him with the bitter burn of unused adrenaline coating the back of his throat.

Something shifted near him and he jerked in surprise. Megamind! Ah yes, the movie and then Leno. They must have fallen asleep, although how they’d managed to end up in this overfriendly position, he couldn’t imagine. They were on the couch, Wayne stretched out on his back and the blue villain beside him, tucked under one muscular arm, his large head resting on Wayne’s chest.

He thought he might still be dreaming until Megamind’s face scrunched up, lips parting, white even teeth almost glowing in the darkened room. He mumbled something unintelligible; Ginger poultice? Finger boulders? then chuckled softly, one hand skittering up Wayne’s torso to rest on his wide chest. Wayne took a mental boot heel and stamped down his libido. This was not for his benefit. He didn’t need to scare away his new friend by acting like a horny teenager. Not that he couldn’t catalogue the feeling of Megamind’s hot breath mere inches from his right nipple, or the way his thin legs were entwined with Wayne’s own and file it away for later, perhaps in a nice hot soapy shower, or the privacy of his bedroom.

Megamind’s back straightened, and the hand on Wayne’s chest fisted in his shirt (catching a good amount of underlying hair.)

“Muh-Minion.” he huffed, tensing further. “No.”

Wayne grinned and settled in to watch the show, but the rigidity in Megamind’s back eventually released, and his breaths slowed, becoming more even and deep. Long moments passed and Wayne was half asleep himself when Megamind began to twitch again.

“Guh!” he cried, “Minion, no!”

That hand was clenching in his shirt again, and Wayne fought the urge to place his own hand over it.

“No!” He gave a small series of grunts and breathy moans and Wayne grinned. This one sounded even better than last time. “Give’m back. Now.” His legs jerked and Wayne instinctively put a hand over his own crotch. Invulnerable or not, a knee to the jewels was still unpleasant. “What’re you -- Oh!" Megamind’s breathing grew more fervent and his whole body began to tremble. “Don’t!” he hissed, “Stop it!”

“Hey,” said Wayne, not liking where this seemed to be headed. “Wake up buddy.”

“You can’t do this,” he said, his voice a mere whine, “I’ll tell! I’ll tell every --Oh God! You’re hurting me!”

Wayne grasped him by the shoulders and gave a gentle shake, but Megamind thrashed in his grip. “MINION!” he all but screamed and pushed himself off of Wayne and back against the arm of the couch. He blinked a few times, large wet eyes darting around the room, then swiped at his tear stained face with the sleeves of his costume. “Oh my,” he said, covering his mouth with one shaking hand, “how utterly embarrassing. I hope I didn’t … get any snot on you?”

Wayne shrugged and propped himself up on this elbows. “No worries,” he said. He gave Megamind a moment to collect himself, then asked; “You okay?”

“Just fine,” he said, wrapping his thin arms around himself, but his trembling lower lip and uneven breathing said otherwise.

“So,” asked Wayne, trying to lighten the mood, “did you and Minion have a fight or something?”

Megamind’s eyes became impossibly wider, his frown deepening. “Minion would never hurt me!” A tear spilled over and ran down his cheek and he wiped it on his shoulder.

“Hurt you?” asked Wayne grinning, “It sounded more like he was trying to play Hide the Salami.”

“Hide the -- ?” Megamind blinked a few times, then his mouth dropped open. “Oh God! What’s wrong with you?”

“Relax little buddy, I’m just joking.”

Megamind’s jaw worked a moment before he sputtered; “Excuse me?”

Wayne had the good sense to know he’s crossed a line, but despite the uncomfortable silence between them, or perhaps because of it, his mouth refused to shut up.

“Aw, I’m just playing with ya little buddy. But come on, are you telling me that the two of you have lived together this long and have never had a …” he rubbed his two index fingers together in a lascivious manner, “a sword fight?”

“A … a what? screeched Megamind, jumping to his feet. “If by ‘sword’ I can assume you mean … penis? Then perhaps it has slipped your notice that Minion is a fish and therefore doesn’t possess that type of reproductive equipment. Not to mention that what you are implying is beyond insulting and offensive.”

He snatched his cape from the back of the chair and marched to the door. Wayne got up and followed, spreading his hands and giving his most disarming grin.

“Hey, don’t be mad little buddy, I was just kidding.”

Megamind whirled around and planted a finger square in the middle of Wayne’s chest.

“Let’s get one thing straight here. I am not, never was and never shall be your ‘buddy.’ You’re just a big, spoiled, privileged brat and always have been. If you knew anything about me, you would know that this type of ‘joking’ isn’t funny. You can take that silver spoon you were born with and shove it up where the sun doesn’t shine.”

And with that he left, slamming the door behind him.

 

************

 

A month passed. Then another. By the middle of the third month, Wayne had stopped shaving. By the end of the forth, he’d given up listening for the door. Although his place was off the beaten path, the rumble of a passing truck would have him raising his head from whatever book he might be reading, hoping against hope that the familiar click of baby seal skin boots would follow, but no longer.

He threw himself back into his music. In the meantime, he made a few visits to the local library where books about everyone’s favourite villain cum hero found their way into his hands. There was a surprising amount of information about Megamind that Wayne had never known. Never bothered to know.

He wrote an apology note, then threw it away. He wrote a three page letter and threw that away too. There wasn’t a Hallmark card for ‘Sorry, I’m an insensitive asshole.’ Actually, there was, but it seemed too trite.

He considered going to the Lair to apologize in person, but that didn’t seem right either. So he stayed home. Ironic, wasn’t it? That the boy who grew up in a prison was now a hero and the former hero was now a prisoner in his own home.

Then, late one afternoon, when Wayne was wedged under his kitchen sink, tinkering with an overly temperamental garbage disposal, there was a knock. The knock he’d been waiting to hear for almost six months.

He willed himself not to sprint to the door, calmly wiping his hands on a dishtowel. He would apologize. As soon as he got the door open he had to be sure to say he was sorry, that he’d been a dick, then promise never to act like that again. He grasped the knob, took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

The long-awaited apology died on his lips.

It was the smell that hit him first. The bitter tang of copper and salt. Megamind blinked stupidly, then looked up at him. Fear and pain and despair all evident on his blood-smeared face. Smeared was not a sufficient description. Soaked, drenched and sodden were much more apt. His costume was slick with it. Blood and bits of -- Jesus, was that brain matter?-- were splattered across his face and chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, boots squelching as he shifted stiffly from foot to foot, “I didn’t know where to go.”

“Wh-what happened?” asked Wayne, still reeling in shock.

“A robbery … and it went … Oh God!” He put his bloody hands over his even bloodier face.

“Is any of … this” Wayne waved his hands at the bloody mess, “yours? Are you hurt?”

Megamind thought a moment then looked to Wayne, eyes wide. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Well … come in! Wait, no.”

There were red footprints down the hallway leading to his door. The thought of all of that blood soaking into his carpet gave Wayne pause.

“Can I pick you up? Would you mind if I carried you?”

Megamind nodded then shrugged.

Wayne gingerly grasped him under his arms and lifted the bloody hero up, careful to hold him away from himself. “Okay,” he said, trying not to breathe through his nose, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

Wayne pursed his lips then carried him through the living room and to the bedroom beyond. Once through to the ensuite, Wayne shifted Megamind to one arm, reached to the shower faucets and turned them on, keeping one hand in the spray until the temperature was warm enough.

“Okay,” he said, chewing his lip. “I guess we’ll put you in there like this and then work down through the layers?”

Megamind didn’t respond . He just hung dejectedly in Wayne’s grip, and when he was placed in the shower he sunk down into a crouch, hands wrapped around his knees. An ominous red shadow swirled around him on the tiled floor, slowly circling, then disappearing down the drain. When he made no move to wash himself, Wayne grabbed a fresh face cloth from the cupboard then stripped down to his underwear and stepped in behind him.

He wet the cloth under the spray, wrung it out and reached around to wipe Megamind’s face. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

“No,” was the whispered reply.

“Come on,” he said, “you’ll feel better if you let it out.”

“I doubt it,” he answered, slumping even lower, “I don’t think I will ever feel good again.”

“So walk me through it,” said Wayne, scooting closer behind Megamind and placing his legs on either side of the little hero, “You said there was a robbery. Where?”

“First National, “ he answered, “on Dugald.”

“Go on,” said Wayne, fumbling for the zipper at the neck of Megamind’s costume.

“Three robbers, ten hostages, which is why I was called in.”

Wayne unzipped the shirt then realized he’d have to remove the gloves first. He set to the task of undoing the tiny buckles.

“It was actually going really well. I’d dehydrated one of the bad guys and had managed to get them to release all but two of the hostages. My mistake was,” he said, voice climbing to a higher register, “I hadn’t realized that one of those hostages was actually a perp in disguise. So stupid of me, really. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book.”

Buckles undone, Wayne pulled off one long glove, releasing a fresh torrent of red streaks and swirls.

“I tried to get them to release the female hostage first. You know, for chivalry and all that, except they weren’t willing, and were getting agitated. She was only a foot or so away from me, so I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her toward me, reaching for my De-gun with the other. I hadn’t even looked at the other hostage, I mean, my attention was on the two guys with guns. But the fake guy, he had one too, and he shot her. Point blank range. He might have been aiming for me, I’m not sure, I suppose I’ll never know, but she took the brunt of the shot.

Wayne undid the second glove and began to peel it down the thin arm.

“Her head,” he said, lip trembling, “it just … kind of exploded. She fell towards me and I tried to catch her, but … but there wasn’t --Oh God!--” Megamind lurched forward onto his hands and knees and dry heaved over the drain. “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit“ he cried as another spasm wracked through him. He wiped his one bare hand over his mouth, “There wasn’t anything left to catch!”

“It’s okay,“ Wayne soothed, “Let it out.”

 

“I let it all out at the bank,” he answered, lowering his head, “after I took care of those heartless bastards.” He looked back to Wayne, water dripping down his face and his costume half hanging off his skinny frame and Wayne had the sudden desire to wrap him in his arms and never let him go.

Megamind held his still gloved hand out to Wayne, who offered his own hand in reply. It hovered over his for a moment, then Megamind deposited something hard and silver into Wayne’s waiting palm. Wayne turned the object over curiously.

It was a hair clip. In the shape of a butterfly.

“Eliza,” he said. His eyes moved from the clip to Megamind. “The woman? It was her?”

Megamind inclined his head, then sat back down in the circle of Wayne’s legs. He sighed and let his head fall back against Wayne’s chest. Wayne peeled off the remaining glove, his other hand still rubbing the smooth metal of the barrette.

“That really sucks,” he said, and Megamind grunted in agreement. A shiver rippled through him and he groaned.

“I’m c-cold,” he said, fumbling with the buckles on his boots. Wayne reached up and adjusted the faucet, then batted blue hands away and undid his boots.

“You’re probably still in shock.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, holding up one trembling hand for Wayne to see, “I c-can’t stop shaking.”

“We’re almost done in here,” said Wayne, tossing the boots in the corner of the shower and giving Megamind a gentle tap on his butt to get him to raise his hips, “then I’ll give you something sweet to get your blood sugar up.” He peeled the wet, sticky tights over the slim hips and with some difficulty managed to tug them off Megamind’s shaky legs.

Head still leaning on Wayne’s chest, Megamind twisted around and looked up at the former hero. “Did it ever h-happen t-to you?” he asked, teeth chattering, “Screwing everything up like that, I mean.”

Wayne laughed and ran a hand through his wet hair. “Yeah, in case you didn’t notice, I manage to screw stuff up all the time.”

“Like when?”

“Oh, I don’t’ know … like the last time you came to visit me?”

“Oh, that,” said Megamind, wrapping his skinny arms around himself. “I uh … I may have over-reacted a b-bit that night.”

“No,” said Wayne, shaking his head, “I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me, but I just didn’t know when to shut my big mouth. I guess I just … I don’t know. You were having a tough time and instead of helping, I just managed to make it worse. It was wrong of me to joke about Minion like that. He’s a really great guy.”

“And someone that I’ve known since b-birth,” Megamind added. “It’s sort of like me joking about your mom.”

“Oh yeah,” agreed Wayne, “that would totally cross a line.”

“She is p-pretty hot, by the way. Your m-mom.”

“Yeah, okay. Point taken,” he chuckled.

“I’m d-done. In h-here. Can you make me some tea?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Wayne shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Throwing a towel over one shoulder he extended a hand to Megamind then pulled him to his feet. The little man looked around at the austere bathroom with it’s elaborate mirrors and sconce lighting and smiled tiredly.

“It’s getting really dark,” he said.

Wayne, who was unfolding a fresh towel for his guest, turned to ask him what he meant when he saw the little hero’s eyes roll up into his head and his legs buckle beneath him.

“Whoa!” Wayne cried, lunging towards him and catching him under his arms just before he cracked his head on the floor. He laid him out on the thick rug and gently patted his cheek. “Megamind? You still with me?”

Red finger prints smeared across the blue cheeks and a confused Wayne turned his hands over, inspecting them. Sure enough, his left hand was sticky with blood. What the hell? How could they have spent the last half hour in the shower and yet still have missed this much blood? Unless -- his eyes shot to the skinny form and his heart caught in his throat.

There was still blood. A lot of it, coming from a jagged gash across Megamind’s ribs on his right side. Jesus, how had he missed that? He quickly rolled up a towel and pressed it firmly against the wound.

Megamind groaned at the pressure, his eyelids fluttering.

“Hey,” said Wayne, “wake up, buddy.”

At this his eyes did open, impossibly green when viewed from up close. He searched Wayne’s face with a look of mild curiosity, then raised a hand and traced the curve of Wayne’s cheekbone with one slim finger.

“Hi,” Megamind whispered, chewing his bottom lip. He peered down the space between them, an impish grin on his face. “Yooou’re naaaked.” he said in a child-like singsong voice, then snorted at his own joke.

“I’m partially naked,” corrected Wayne, “and you are hurt. Do you remember coming here? Do you recall the accident at the bank?”

Megamind nodded while his fingers brushed idly through the hair on Wayne’s jaw. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “The bank. And the blood.” The smile abruptly slid from his face and his eyes focused. “Oh! The blood!” He looked around the room suddenly aware of his surroundings and snatched his hand away from Wayne’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said with a grimace, “What happened?”

“You fainted.”

The green eyes widened in horror. “I did not! Heroes don’t faint. I must have passed out.”

“Faint, swoon, got the vapours, whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is, you’re hurt, you’ve lost God only knows how much blood and we need to get you to a hospital.”

Megamind swallowed thickly and frowned. “No. I’m thirsty. You promised me tea.”

“Yeah, and you told me you weren’t hurt. It’s pretty bad, you need to see a doctor.”

“I’m not going,” he said. “There will be cameras and reporters and people sticking microphones in my face asking ‘What happened?’ and ‘What went wrong?’ Forget it.”

“I’d prefer that option to the one where you bleed to death on my bathroom floor!”

“I’m not bleeding to death,” he whined, lifting the towel and taking a peek underneath. “Oh. Ugh! Yeah, that does look pretty bad. Tell you what, bring me some bandages and we’ll patch it up.”

Wayne stood and drummed his fingers on the countertop impatiently. “I don’t have any bandages, genius.”

“Well, why n -- Oh yeah. Invulnerability. Of course. What about a sewing kit? With sturdy thread?”

“Oh no!” Wayne yelled, throwing up his hands, “I am NOT sewing you up. Forget it. You need a doctor.”

“Or a hero …”

“You’re the hero now, remember?”

“With laser vision …”

“You’re the -- huh? What for? To cut you in half?”

“No,” said Megamind, a gleam in his eye, “cauterization.”

“Cauter -- what?”

“Electrocautery. Or in this case, lasercautery. Heating the blood vessels to facilitate coagulation, effectively stopping any bleeding.

“No,” said Wayne, shaking his head. “I am not cool with that. I don’t do that laser shit anymore. I don’t even have that kind of control over it.”

“Fine,” said Megamind with a sigh. He onto his uninjured side and began to get up, one hand holding the towel in place. “I’ll get Minion to do it.”

“Fine,” echoed Wayne, calling his bluff. “Go ahead.”

“I will.” Grasping the countertop for support, Megamind pulled himself to his feet. “Now where did I leave my watch?” He stumbled to the shower and leaned heavily on the door. His skinny blue frame making a stark contrast to the white tile. “Was I wearing it when you removed my gloves?”

Wayne shrugged noncommittally.

“Fine,” Megamind grumbled, scanning his discarded clothes, “don’t help me.”

Wayne turned on the sink faucet and began scrubbing the blood off of his hand. At the sound of the water Megamind turned around and stared, mesmerized. “Water! Oh yes, I am so incr-cr-credibly thirsty!” He slid in beside Wayne and cupped his hands under the flow, then brought the water to his mouth, drinking greedily. His towel slipped when he went for seconds and Wayne stooped to pick it up, then pressed it to the bloody gash.

“Quit bleeding on my floor.”

“Locate my watch and I’ll go bleed on my own floor.”

Wayne sighed. “You didn’t have it. At least, I don’t remember you wearing it.”

Megamind took one last drink then sighed. “Darn.” He slowly lowered himself so that he was sitting on the floor, then pushed himself back to lean against the wall. He grasped the towel to keep it in place and let his head fall back with a dull ‘thunk’ against the wall. “I’m just going to rest for a moment. I’ll look for my watch in a bit.”

He woke up with Wayne’s fingers in his mouth.

*******

“What the -- what the hell are you doing?” Megamind sputtered turning his head away from Wayne’s hand.

Wayne rolled his eyes. “Sugar. You’re in shock.” He held up a bottle with a picture of a honey comb on it. “Corn syrup. I was rubbing it on your gums for faster absorption.”

Megamind licked his lips, which were indeed sticky and sweet. “Oh.”

“And now drink this,” he said, supporting the big, blue head and helping him sit up. “It’s a sports drink. Electrolytes.”

Megamind obediently drank from the cup Wayne offered, downing the drink that he knew must be sweet, but compared with the syrup, tasted quite bland. “Thank you,” he said, laying back down on the soft pillows. “Wait! This isn‘t the bathroom? When did I get here?”

“Relax,” he said, picking up a book and concentrating at the cover, “You …passed out in the bathroom again, so I brought you in here. It’s warmer.” He put two fingers to his temple and a thin beam of light shot from his eyes to the book. He quickly opened it and thumbed through the smoking pages. “Okay, I think I’ve got it.” He tossed the book onto a pile of other, similarly smoking tomes and flashed Megamind a big grin.

“What on Earth is this about?”

“Laser vision. Obviously you‘re way more stubborn than me, so I’m giving in. I took a look at the wound while you were … ‘passed out’ and I think at it’s deepest it’s around a centimeter and a half. Which works out to about page 53 in most books.” He picked up the book he’d just discarded and flipped it open to the page in question. Page 54 had a mild scorch mark, but page 55 was clean. As he flipped it closed, Megamind could see the tiny holes burnt through all of the preceding pages. “Now, I’ve gotta warn you, this is going to hurt. A lot.”

“I assure you, after years of dealing with you thwarting me and hauling me off to jail, I’ve developed a very high tolerance for pain.”

“Yes, well … “ said Wayne, obviously not convinced, “this is going to take pain to a whole new level. And you can’t move. You have to stay absolutely still or I’m just going to be cutting you open all over again.”

“Understood.”

“I mean it. Promise me you won’t move.”

“Scout’s honour,” said Megamind, making a few obscure and incorrect hand motions before giving up. “Do your worst.”

“Okay,” said Wayne, getting on the bed and straddling his friend, “roll over a bit so that the wound is … yeah, like that.” He grasped the towel and locked eyes with Megamind. “So, plan is, I’ll do it in short bursts. Probably ten or so, until the bleeding stops. Alright?”

“Works for me,” he replied, gritting his teeth in anticipation.

Wayne took a couple of deep, centering breaths, then removed the towel. He leaned in, squinted slightly then shot a quick, clear burst of light at the jagged cut.

“JESUS FUCKIN’ CUNT-HOLE FUCKERY COCKSUCKING WHORE! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” screamed Megamind, twisting and bucking against him. “HOLY FUCKIN’ GEEZ! I think you pierced my heart!” He grasped the still bleeding wound and rolled back in forth in an attempt to self soothe.

“Flail like that again, and I’ll cut off your arm,” said Wayne.

“No, I changed my mind. The hospital sounds like a grand place to be. Friendly nurses, sterile conditions. Anaesthesia!

“Reporters,” added Wayne, “paparazzi, angry relatives …”

“Oh crap, yes. Angry relatives,” he sighed.

“And paparazzi,” prompted Wayne.

“Okay, okay. It’s just … I can’t not move when you do that. It’s a knee-jerk reaction that I will be unable to control.”

“Then I’ll hold you down.”

Megamind narrowed his eyes sceptically. “And how many ribs will you break in the process?”

“None! Well … probably none. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Megamind threw up his hands in surrender. “Get busy living, or get busy dying.”

“Hey! Shawshank redemption movie quote!” said Wayne, adjusting his position over the blue hero, and moving his hands to firmly frame the wound.

“Yes, well, let’s hope it’s the living part, okay?”

“You got it, big guy. Ready?”

Megamind took a deep breath and nodded.

Wayne firmed his grip on Megamind’s torso and gave him a wink. “Here we go!” He narrowed his focus and began to fire short bursts of light at the uneven cut. His secure grasp on Megamind kept his target steady, but the hero continued to buck and writhe beneath him, his throaty gasps and moans becoming quite the distraction.

Wayne had spent way too many nights imagining Megamind just like this. The slim body moving beneath him, muscles tensed, back arched, blue lips pulled back with passion. Except instead of lasers, it was Wayne’s fingers making him cry out, voice husky with desire. And when he had stretched the little villain, he would take his thick cock and stretch him even more. Megamind would gasp, his luminous green eyes widening with shock at the pressure and the pain, but he wouldn’t say no. He would not refuse Metro Man. Instead, blue fingers would slide up his thick neck and tangle in his hair, tugging and pulling, his breath hot in Metro Man’s ear. “Yes,” he’d whisper, “More!” And the hero would comply, slowly inching himself into Megamind’s tight heat until he was fully sheathed. Megamind would gasp beneath him, his muscles fluttering as they adjusted around his length, and eventually he would look up at Metro Man, pupils blown so wide they were almost black, yet his expression one of shy admiration. Wayne would take a hand and smooth it over the villain’s brow, the skin so soft and warm, and Megamind’s mouth would part, white teeth chewing on his bottom lip, and Wayne would be able to hold back no longer. He’d cover that mouth with his own, tasting, teasing and claiming him.

Blue legs would wrap around his waist, heels digging into his buttocks, prompting him to move, to push, to thrust, and he would. He would pull back and press himself in. Slowly at first, but before long he’d be pounding into him with an urgency that was almost primal. The villain’s hardness would be trapped between them, and Metro Man would be sure to thrust just right, rolling his hips so that he would pleasure him from both inside and out. The friction of their slick bellies sliding together and the pressure of his cock pressed against his inner walls would make Megamind arch and buck, slim fingers grasping muscular arms so tightly that they would leave bruises on anyone else.

And then Megamind would cry out, his body tense as an archer’s bow, and that sound would travel straight to Metro Man’s cock, and he’d grip the other man hard enough to crack his spine as he pulsed his release inside of him.

Megamind cried out again, this time clearly from pain and not pleasure. Wayne shot one final beam of light, then held his breath and waited to see if any blood would well up from the scar. Megamind’s chest heaved beneath him, his racing heartbeat thrumming under Wayne’s hand. One second passed, then another. The smoking scar seemed to be holding.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, that burns,” whined Megamind, in short, staccato bursts.

Wayne sucked in a chest-full of air then blew a super-cooling breath over the red scar. It immediately turned a frosty white-blue. Wayne watched in amazement as the skin around the scar broke out in gooseflesh, then the chilly bumps travelled outward until the little hero was covered in them. Megamind’s nipple, which was just inches from Wayne’s nose also hardened into a pinky/purple knot and it took every ounce of Wayne’s willpower to not place his mouth over the little nub and suck.

Just because he harboured sexual fantasies about his nemesis, there had been no evidence to show that Megamind returned the feelings in kind. Except … Wayne shifted his hips and yes, there it was. Something hot and most definitely hard was poking Wayne in the torso. His gaze shifted from the nipple to Megamind’s face. The green eyes were squeezed shut and his cheeks a bright pink.

“I’m sorry, “ he whispered, clearly mortified. “I have an odd … physiologically conditioned reflex to pain.”

“You mean … you like it?”

“No,” he chuckled darkly, “I don’t like it. It hurts! I‘ve just come to expect … release afterwards.” He covered his face with his hands. “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to die from embarrassment now.”

“Don’t feel bad,” said Wayne, shifting his hips so his own Fruit of the Loom encased erection pressed against Megamind’s leg, “I happen to have my own conditioned response to being around you.”

The green eyes popped open and searched Wayne’s face. “You’re kidding, right?”

Wayne pressed more firmly against him. “Does this feel like I’m kidding?”

“No, I suppose not. It’s just that --unngh,” he groaned, placing a hand over the scar, “Sorry, it’s just …” he let out a small gasp and gritted his teeth, “It’s just still really humming.”

“Lemme see,” said Wayne, pulling the blue hand away eyeing it carefully. There was still no blood, and although the colour had returned, it was not nearly as red as when he’d first finished the cauterization. Now it was more the soft purple/pink of the hero’s ears. Wayne leaned in closer, fully intent on giving it another cooling breath, but instead pressed his lips to it and gave it a kiss. Then another.

Megamind gave a shuddering breath and Wayne took that as his green light. He kissed along the length of the scar, then up to the still erect nipple. When blue fingers tangled in his hair, Wayne gained more confidence and dragged his lips across the narrow chest to the other nipple, and after giving it some attention, licked his way up to the collarbone and then throat.

Megamind let his head fall back into the pillows and rolled his hips, pressing himself against Wayne’s torso. Wayne arched his back to make up for the considerable size difference and brought their erections together, pressing and rubbing him through the thin cotton of his underwear.

“You feel … really good,” he whispered, licking a stripe up the slender neck.

“I know,” came the husky reply, and they both paused to giggle like little kids.

“You’re such an ass.”

“I know that too,” he grinned, and Wayne smiled in return. Then he kissed him. He covered those full lips with his own and pressed inside his hot mouth. The world might never be the same now that he had done this for real. Now that he knew for certain what Megamind tasted like. What he smelled like. How he felt arching beneath him, the heat of his hardness pressing against Wayne’s own. This was better than fantasy. This was some crazy extraordinary reality. It was almost too good to be true.

And then the truth hit him. It was too good to be true. He broke the kiss and rolled off of Megamind, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. Damn it! Why hadn’t he realized it earlier?

“What the hell?” panted Megamind, “is this your way of playing hard to get?”

“No. Well, yeah, sort of. We can’t do this, it isn’t right.”

“Huh? It was ‘right’ up until a second ago. What happened to make it wrong?”

“You did. Well, not you but your situation. Don’t you see? You came to me for help. For comfort. You were hurt and afraid and emotionally compromised and I took advantage of you.”

“It’s not ‘taking advantage’ if both partners are willing.”

“Yes it is, because you’re not capable of consent right now. Hell, you’ve lost so much blood tonight that I don’t know how you even managed to grow a boner!”

“I disagree.”

“That’s fine. You can disagree all you like. You passed out twice in the last hour, and then, to top it off, I pretty much performed major surgery on you. I’m not doing this. Not now.”

Megamind put on his best puppy dog face, (which was pretty spectacular, really.)

“Please?” he asked, running his hand up Wayne’s thigh and across his stretched-to-bursting Y-fronts, “I feel really bad, and this feels really good.”

Wayne pushed him away and covered his crotch with his hand. “Tell you what, if you still want to do this in the morning, we can, but not tonight.”

“How about we do it in the morning and tonight?”

“Dude!” grinned Wayne, “No means no!”

“Pffft,” he snorted, rolling over to face away from Wayne, “cock-blocker.”

“Get some sleep,” he said, carefully pulling Megamind towards him until he was flush against his chest.

“As if I’ll get any sleep with this!” he said, with a flourish to his still hard cock. And then, because the universe loves irony, he yawned deeply.

“Your balls are already blue. One more night won’t make a difference.”

“Fuck off,” was the tired reply, but it held no bite, and Megamind snuggled back into Wayne’s embrace.

Wayne listened as his partner's breathing slowed, then he too fell asleep, his arm carefully draped over the little hero.

When Wayne woke up he was alone.

 

*********

 

Wayne trailed a hand down the soft indent in the pillow beside him.

“Shiiiiit,” he groaned, rolling over and pressing his face into the smooth material. Why did he have to be the voice of reason? Why did his do-good conscience have to kick in right when the culmination of a decade of sexual fantasies was hot and writhing beneath him? God, Megamind had felt so good. So much sexier and delectable than he could ever have imagined. And now, he was gone. That opportunity lost forever.

He groaned against the pillow and pressed his hips into the mattress.

“Starting without me?”

Wayne froze and turned his head to see Megamind casually leaning against the door jam, coffee cup in hand. Wayne’s ridiculously huge bathrobe hung off his little frame and when he took a sip from the steaming mug, it slipped down, one blue shoulder demurely peeking out from the terry-towel. Damn, he looked good in white!

“Just uh … keeping your side of the bed warm, buddy!” said Wayne, rolling over and holding the sheets aside in a way he hoped looked inviting. “What’ve you got there?”

“Tea,” said Megamind, perching on the side of the bed, “The service here is beyond atrocious. I ordered this over seven hours ago, and ended up having to make it myself.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly used to having guests.”

“No shit.” Megamind took a sip then held the cup out. “Would you like some?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Metro Man grasped the cup and held it to his lips. It was warm and aromatic and Oh God, full of sugar! “Urg! How can you drink that?” he asked, forcing himself to swallow the mouthful he’d taken. “That is nasty!”

Megamind shrugged and took the cup back. “More for me.” He sat back farther on the bed and the bathrobe slipped down more, exposing a bright white bandage over his injury from the night before.

“Hey!” said Wayne, pointing, “You found bandages. I didn’t think I had any.”

“You didn’t. Minion brought them.”

“So you found your watch?”

“No. I must have lost it at the bank. Minion just made a calculated guess and came to find me here.”

Wayne looked to the open doorway. “Is he still here?”

“No. I told him to come back and get me at noon.”

“That’s four hours from now.”

“I know,” said Megamind, putting his cup on the bed side table and shrugging off the bathrobe. “Whatever shall we do for all that time?”

“I uh … huh,” Wayne chuckled, eyes roaming over the expanse of blue skin before him, “I have quite a few ideas. What would you like to do?

“Well,” said Megamind, taking one of his blue index fingers and rubbing it slowly against the other, “someone once mentioned something about a sword fight that I found rather intriguing.”

“Really?” asked Wayne, “That person sounds really smart.”

“He certainly thinks he is,” he replied, reaching out to run his fingers down Wayne’s sculpted abdomen. “But unfortunately, he wears the most juvenile undergarments. It’s hard to take anyone seriously when they’re wearing ‘tightey-whities’.”

“What?” complained Wayne, “these are perfectly fine underwear.”

“Sure, they cover your privates, but they are most unbefitting a super hero.”

“But I’m not a super hero anymore.”

“Yes, and you’re not a twelve year old boy either.”

“If you’d like me to take them off, just ask.”

“Consider yourself asked.”

“Fine,” said Wayne, hooking his thumbs into the waist band and wriggling them down his hips and off of his legs. “Better?”

“Infinitely.”

Wayne shifted his position to line up better with his bed mate, then paused, one hand raised above Megamind’s abdomen.

“So … uh, how do you want to do this?”

Megamind smiled and raised his arms above his head, pressing them back and his torso forward in a lazy stretch. “You tell me. I was lead to believe you were the expert at hand to hand combat.” He sighed and inched himself closer to Wayne.

Wayne chuckled and let his hand drop to Megamind’s chest, where it traced the small indent at the center of his breast-bone then trailed lower, skimming across his taut belly to the burgeoning erection below.

“I don’t know if I’m an expert,” he said, pressing his swelling cock against Megamind’s blue one, “ an authority perhaps, connoisseur maybe, but not-”

His words were cut short at Megamind’s sharp hiss as his hand wrapped around the two plump cocks and rubbed them together.

“Oh yeah,” he hummed, green eyes lidded with arousal. “That feels exciting.”

“Just wait, it gets better,” said Wayne, removing his hand. He brought it to his mouth and licked his palm, giving it a generous coating of saliva. Megamind watched, wide-eyed then fisted his hands in the sheets when Wayne grasped their cocks with slick, wet fingers and began to rub anew.

“Ohhh,” sighed Megamind, peering down to watch Wayne’s ministrations on his cock. “that feels fantastic.”

Instead of answering, Wayne dropped his mouth to Megamind’s shoulder, then licked and sucked his way to the slim neck. Megamind’s hands skittered up Wayne’s shoulders, grasped at the abundant muscles then found their way up his neck to tangle in his hair.

“Ohhh,” he repeated, pressing his hips against his partner, “Metro Mahn he moaned, “yesss, more!”

Wayne felt a sudden twist in his belly as his balls tightened. “Shit! No!” he cried, but it was too late. His orgasm ripped through him like a freight train, and he pulsed his release in generous spurts across Megamind’s abdomen. He groaned in mortification and hid his face in Megamind’s armpit.

They both held still in the shock of the aftermath, the ticking of Megamind’s watch the only sound in the quiet room.

“Wow,” said Megamind, giving a not particularly subtle snort into his hand, “that was … impressive.”

“Am I a stud, or what?” Wayne asked with a sheepish grin.

“Best twenty-seven seconds of my life,” he deadpanned, then bit back a grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Cut me some slack. It’s just been me and my fist here for the past year. And uh … I’m not ashamed to say that this,” he said, motioning between them, “has been something I’d thought about for quite some time.” He took a corner of the sheet and began to wipe away the abundant mess on the blue stomach.

“And?” asked Megamind.

“And what?”

“And was it anything like you’d fantasized about?”

“It was … um, faster, but yeah, it was kind of pretty great too. I‘m sorry it uh, well, I kind of even took myself by surprise there.”

“You know, I might have been harbouring a few fantasies of my own.”

“Really now?” asked Wayne, eyes wandering to the hero’s still hard cock. “What kind of fantasies?”

“Ones that are a lot slower,” he answered, “and where you use your mouth for things other than sputtering apologies.”

“Don’t get too cocky, little Buddy. I could use super-speed, and you’d climax before you even registered any suction.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Megamind asked, fingers finding Wayne’s hair again as he slid his muscular body down the bed. “We still have three hours, fifty-nine minutes and thirty-three seconds. Let’s not waste a single one, shall we?”

Wayne didn’t answer. He was too busy.

 

******  
Fin


End file.
